My Neighbor Ch. 3

My Husband arrived home a little later than usual that night. He was all excited and full of himself as he came through the door. "Great news honey," he told me, "my research grant has been approved. I fly to Washington tomorrow at noon to meet with Senator Causeway and tie up the loose ends and paperwork. The funding should begin next month."

"That's wonderful darling," was the best I could do for a response, preoccupied as I was with having just been fucked to a fare thee well by our next door neighbor. "You've earned it, and I'm so happy for you." It was true. He had earned that grant, and I was happy for him, but I was in a guilty funk about what a whore I had been today. What would he say if he knew?

Alvin was so up beat, however, that he didn't notice how quiet I was. He insisted that we go out for dinner to celebrate. All thru the meal I tried to drown my distress in brandy, and I was pretty loaded by the time we got home. Alvin had a snoot full also, and in his elation he choose this night of all nights to get amorous. Under the circumstances I could hardly turn him down. Bless his short little cock, he tried hard to pleasure me. He took his time with the foreplay, and even ate my pussy before he stuck it in me. After the way Peter had fucked me earlier, however, he just couldn't get me off. I faked 'the big O' though, and he dropped off to sleep satisfied.

I didn't sleep very well that night, and the next morning as Alvin packed for his trip, I fretted about the mess I was in. I knew that come 2:30 that afternoon I was due at Peter's swimming pool. I also knew that Peter would spend the afternoon abusing my body and turning me into an even bigger adulterous tramp than I had been the day before.

No, Damn it! I am not a whore! Pete Carr can't run my life! I won't show up. That'll show the bastard! This is all fantasy, The son of a bitch doesn't really own me or my cunt. I refuse to be his captive slut! No more of this female submission foolishness! No more crawling at the feet of some man with a big prick. A woman has every right to control her own body.

But, but then..., then, I remembered the ten inches of male love meat that hung between Peter's legs, and what that thing did yesterday for my poor sex starved pussy. I remembered those crashing orgasms, and how meaningless Alvin's lovemaking had been the night before. God help me! I did so need a cock, a real cock, a demanding cock, a cock that would force me to do its will..., Peter's cock. How could I ever give him up? No! I couldn't give him up. I won't give him up. Not for anything.

"Face it, Melanie," I admitted to myself, "You're a born slut, happy only when you're on your knees servicing some generic bastard's oversized penis. Both you and the rest of the world will just have to learn to live with that."

And so it was that around 2 pm I changed into the same sort of jogging shorts and T-shirt that I had worn the day previously. No bra again of course, and today I even dispensed with the panties. I wouldn't be needing underwear for what Pete Carr had in mind for me, of that I was certain. Some lipstick on my mouth and nipples, and some perfume on my neck and pussy and I was ready.

I thought I might be a little early, but by the time I walked through the gate into Peter's back yard, he and Becky were already there ahead of me. They must have dismissed their summer school classes early and come straight to Peter's pool. By the time I arrived, poor Becky was hanging naked from her wrists handcuffed over the high bar of the little gym set at the far end of the patio. Peter was also naked and holding a small very limber branch from the hedge he must have just cut because a couple of leaves were still at the tip.

Poor Becky was in serious distress! Her toes were just touching the ground barely able to take the weight off her arms. An angry Peter Carr was about to wear his switch out on her ass the back of her thighs. As her legs danced under the lashing, her head would fall backwards, and her arm muscles would go taught and quivering as she lost even the small support of her tip-toes. With every cut, a new flaming red stripe marked where she had been hit. When she tried to protect her backside by twisting around to face her tormentor, Peter would mark either her belly or her breasts with the same cruel red welts. I saw one strike land directly across her nipples. I can't even imagine how much it must hurt to be whipped there. Tears were streaming down Becky's face, and she was trying hard to make herself heard over her sobs.

"Plea-Please, Please Peter no more. I--I--I won't d--do it ag--again. Whatever you t--tell me to--to d--do, I p-promis I-I'll d--do."

"You bet you will woman," Peter said, still lashing at her tortured flesh. "Here she is now! Tell her! Tell her how sorry you are for the names you called her. Apologize for saying she had a dirty cunt. Ask Melanie to please allow you to eat her pussy again."

Peter punctuated his surrender demand with a particularly vicious swipe of the switch across the back of poor Becky's thighs. His effort was rewarded with a scream of pain!

"G-god p-please, Melanie, m-make him s-stop. I'm s-s-sorry that I acted l-l-like s-such a b--bitch. G-g-god I d-didn't really m--m-mean your p-p-pussy was d-d-d-dirty. I liked l-l-l-licking you. I s-s-swear I-I-I d-d-did. Pl--Pleas-sse let m-m-me eat you ag-again. I-I-I'll make it g-g-good for y-y-ou I sw-swear. "

"OK,' Peter interrupted. "Let's see if she means it. Strip Melanie! What the hell are you standing around in your clothes for anyway. You didn't come over here to play canasta!"

Turning to Becky he released her handcuffs and took her down from the gym bar. "Lay down on the air Mattress Becky, on your back," Peter ordered, "and You, Melanie..., you straddle her, sit on her face. I want your pussy right over her mouth, and her tongue had better be up your slit."

Becky and I wasted no time. The threat of Peter's switch was too real for us to dawdle. In seconds I was naked, sitting with Becky's head locked between my thighs. As Peter had ordered, her tongue was as far up my trembling cunt as it would reach.

"Spread your legs Becky," I heard Peter say behind me. "While you get Melanie off, I'm going to check out your pussy."

I don't know what Peter did to Becky's cunt behind me, but almost immediately she went off like firecracker. She must have been hurting something awful, and I could only suppose that being strung up naked and whipped had been an aphrodisiac to her. Whatever the reason, whether Peter's abuse or his tongue, she dissolved into a sexual frenzy, frantically gorging on my pussy. Never have I been eaten like that before, not by man or woman. It was as if she couldn't to get enough of me in her mouth. I must have come a dozen times..., but even at that I was way behind Becky's almost continuous orgasm. .

"All right bitch," I heard Peter order from behind me, "get up and stand at 'cunt attention.' I am going to play with your worthless yuppie ass now, and Becky here is going to help."

Still concerned with avoiding Peter's switch, I sprang from Becky's face into the required position. I stood there as I had yesterday with my legs spread, my fingers locked behind my head, my tits pushed forward, my eyes closed, offering myself, inviting abuse.

They began with their tongues. I could tell it was Peter licking my pussy because I could feel his mustache. That must be Becky then who was reaming my ass hole. Unlike yesterday, today she did not hesitate to invade the most intimate nooks and crannies of my body. The pain of her recent beating had taught Becky a hard lesson.

Nor was the lesson of Becky's discipline lost on me. Standing there in the dark, the image of a naked and weeping Becky hanging helpless from the gym bar was frozen in my mind. Peter's switch probably didn't hurt any more than Eddie Farmer's belt, but Eddie never made a sexy spectacle of my beating the way Peter had of Becky's. The way his switch made Becky's legs dance, and her big tits jiggle was more than just a woman whipped. Punishment like that has a class that makes it an intensely sensual experience to both participants and spectators.

Unlike Eddie Farmer, who would beat a woman just because he could, there was a purpose behind Peter's cruelty. Like every great cocksman, he knew that the female animal has an ancient and primordial desire to submit to a powerful male warrior. A woman hanging naked, whipped and helpless is, therefore, inherently erotica of the highest order. Peter understood as few men do how, when properly done, a whipping by a lover can stimulate a woman's natural submissive nature. I was living proof. Even though I feared and hated the pain, I was none-the-less fascinated by the thought of hanging hurt, humiliated, and crying at the mercy of this dominant and masculine stud.

Even as I stood there, legs spread, tits out, offering my body to him as his plaything, I knew Peter was reading my thoughts. He knew I would be drawn to sexual punishment like a moth to flame, and switching poor Becky was only a part of his larger plan. When my turn to be whipped came, how would I respond? After all, Peter was no green college boy like Eddie, but an experienced cocksman expert at turning on the horny in a female sex slave. Like Becky would I go into heat and lust to have the bastard who was beating me stick me with his cock?

On this day, however, a whipping was not to be my fate. Peter had decided that today I would receive the more subtle and sensual tortures of 'cunt attention.'

I could only stand helplessly as two sets of hands, two of tongues, and two sets of lips erotically tortured my wretchedly horny body. The mouth, and the sensual mustache hairs that came with it, were no longer covering my sex. Now they nibbled at my inner thighs, and up into the crevices where my legs joined my body. My legs trembled as the sensation was accentuated by Becky's wet tongue licking at creases at the back of my knees, then between my shoulder blades and in my arm pits.

Then as suddenly as they began, both my tormentors were gone, replaced by a pair of soft female breasts that pressed sexily against my own. The phantom tits began to slowly rotate, ever so gently rubbing nipple against nipple, breast flesh against breast flesh. The mouth with the mustache then reappeared, behind me this time where a tongue probed at the crack of my ass, and then slowly worked its way straight up my back bone, up to my neck, and then on to behind my ears. As the tongue rose, the pair of breasts slid downward across my belly button and lower abdomen, and finished with one of my thighs enveloped in a channel of soft tit flesh.

Good God, would these two ever return to my poor pussy that ached so in its isolation? Cunt fluid was running down my leg long before strong male fingers finally began to plunder that sloppy slit. I thought at first I was going to repeat yesterday's experience of being raised to my toes helplessly pegged on a thumb or index finger, but I was wrong. Today Peter's fingers were only confirming that I was aroused and ready for cock.

Withdrawing his hands from my pussy, Peter told me to open my eyes, and follow him. On that oversized air mattress at the edge of the pool, he laid down on his back. His prick was hard and erect, pointing upward from his midsection like the mast of ship. He carefully positioned me to where I was standing directly over his cock, but unlike the day before, now I was turned to face his feet. A tug at my hips told me that I was to squat. God, Please God, was this a signal to let myself down onto that pole of male flesh aimed so tantalizingly at my hungry cunt?

Yes! Yes! That must be it. I was, it seemed, about to be fucked upon that delicious prick that waited beneath me. I gingerly lowered myself, and held my breath as I felt Peter guide his cock head past my pussy lips and into my slit! Slowly I dropped another inch or so, uncertain how far I was allowed to go. I felt my pussy split and stretch to take him in, but I was not admonished or corrected. It was true, he was going to let me ride his cock!

Overcome by my desire, my legs gave way suddenly, and as I landed on his belly with a rush, that huge rod buried itself in my cunt all the way to his balls. Once seated there, however, his hands held my hips in a steel grip, refusing to let me pump my slick pussy up and down over the hard pole that had pinned me and made me its captive. God, how filled I was with delicious male flesh. I ached with desire, desperate to move, but without my owner's permission, I could only grit my teeth and wait.

Peter calmly explained he wanted me to bring him off using only the muscles in the wall of my vagina to grip and massage his prick. I had heard of women who had 'snapping pussies,' but this was a technique new to me, something Eddie Farmer had never demanded. I sweated and strained, a willing student, but not a particularly adept one, No matter how hard I tried to clench my pussy, I simply could not grab Peter's prick with the slippery insides of my vagina.

It was not all bad, however. Even as I struggled to satisfy Peter's erotic demand, my own orgasm swept over me, aided I must admit by Becky who sat down beside me and began to suck my nipples. She did so without being told. What a change from her attitude yesterday. Who said an old whore couldn't learn new tricks..., especially when stimulated with a limber switch applied across her bare ass and tender tits.

After a while Peter tired of my meager talent as a 'snapping pussy,' and he pushed me forward and off his cock. I was disappointed that I had failed to satisfy my new owner, and even more distressed at the loss of the his big prick. Would he punish my failure by leaving me altogether in favor of Becky's tighter and probably better trained pussy?

I whimpered a little and began to beg him to put his cock back in me. He told me to shut up and to again stand directly over him, still facing his feet. Slowly I once more lowered myself, but this time Peter guided his cock into my rectum rather than my pussy. This was the first time in many years that a man had taken my ass, and Peter's big cock hurt me as it went in. As you already know, however, I was no virgin back there, and the sheer eroticism of being butt fucked again after all this time soon took over and washed away the pain.

Peter, however, had something more in mind than a simple ass fuck. Once all of his love pole was deep inside my bowel, he pulled my shoulders backward so that I lay stretched full length on top of him facing the sky. Under me he slid his feet inside my ankles and then spread them wide splitting my legs apart and leaving my stretched but empty pussy exposed, vulnerable, and dripping with my sex juice.

"All right Rebecca," I heard him say. "Remember what you promised your little blond friend just a few minutes ago. Well here she is, all spread and waiting. Get down there and lick that pretty pussy. Do your very best and keep in mind what might happen to your tender ass otherwise."

Becky had certainly not forgotten Peter's switch. Without a word of protest or an instant of hesitation, she obediently knelt between our spread legs. Looking down between my tits at my pussy I could see her crawling toward me on her elbows, her full breasts swaying under her, and her eyes big and wide as she stared at my wet cunt.

Abruptly, her face dropped down into my crotch, and the top of her head began to rock and bob as her tongue raced up and down up the length of my gaping crack. My God, never had I felt anything like that..., my butt filled with a hard penis..., my cunt and clit scrubbed by another woman's tongue..., Peter's masterful hands playing with my tits, pinching my nipples, and all the while saying dirty things into my ear.

In hoarse whispers Peter described in detail how tight my ass hole was, how hot my bowel felt around his prick, and how my spasming tissues were milking him with my every orgasm. I knew well enough that his great male member was stretching my ass hole, but he told me about it anyway, describing how, when he was finished, his cum would drip from my distended anus. He reminded me once more that I was his property now, and this was only the beginning of how he would use and abuse me as his slut, his whore, his sex slave.

He demanded to know if I enjoyed taking his prick up my poop chute. I managed to whimper that I loved it. Then he asked me if I wanted him to give me to other men who would also fuck me in the ass. Before I could answer, however, he told me that what I wanted didn't matter anyway. He was going to make me suck him off in front of his friends, and when their dicks were hard from watching, he would let them take me in both my pussy and my ass. If I refused, he said he would hang me from the gym bar and switch me the same way he had Becky, and after I had been punished, he would rent me to some stranger as a prostitute.

To be used as a public whore was not the worst of his plans for me, however. The worst, and the sexiest, of his threats was to make me strip in front of my husband and maybe even my daughter, and after they heard me beg for his cock, he would fuck me while they watched.

A butt full of cock, a female tongue licking my open pussy, and all this sexy talk about my submission was more than I could stand. The images he planted in my mind set me on fire. God, what this bastard was doing to me was awful, horrible, and humiliating beyond tolerance. Stimulated as I was, however, I accepted without protest that he owned me, body and soul, and had every right to do with me as he chose. My pitiful subservience to his abuse triggered a climax that raced thru my wretched body and exploded like an A-bomb in my belly. Peter's ejaculation came almost simultaneously.

When at last strong hands under my ass lifted my bowel off his pole, I could feel his semen leaking from my stretched and open ass hole in a hot gooey stream. He made Becky and I take a 69 position on the pool deck with me on top. I was told to lick my friend's pussy until she orgasmed. Poor Becky! She was given an even more humbling task. Lying beneath my spread legs, Peter's cum dripped from my ass directly onto her face and mouth as she struggled to clean my ravaged rectum. Peter watched with considerable glee while he directed Becky's efforts with humiliating suggestions.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze as Peter switched his attentions to Becky. He took great joy in shaming the poor woman before he would give her the sexual release that she so ached for. He would never just fuck her. Each time she had to beg him for his cock, and promise over and over that she would always be his slut and whore. Peter took particular pleasure in making her agree to suck his dick in front of her preacher husband.

Even after he had humbled her, he would not just fuck the poor woman and be done with it. No, there are many ways to shame a woman, and Peter knew them all. He knelt behind her and demanded that she back up to him on her hands and knees "so that he could fuck her like the dog bitch she was." Once the end of his prick touched the crack of her ass, he insisted that she drop her shoulders to the ground in order to reach back with her hands and spread the cheeks of her ass for him as he teased her rectum with the end of his cock.

Poor Becky was already half crazy with anticipation that he was going to fuck her ass when Peter suddenly switched, and with a quick short jab split her pussy open. It was still a tease, however, because even as he reduced to an animal bitch in heat hung up on the end of his cock, he still refused to give her more that just the head and maybe two inches of meat.

Becky pleaded with for him to give her more. "Please, please, fuck me Peter," she begged him shamelessly. "Give it all to me, I so need it in me. God damn you Peter Carr, fuck me with your big cock. Oh please put it all in me."